


Clouded Thoughts on a Clear Night

by MissAnimista



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 2016 killed too many celebrities, Also I quoted Fantastic Beasts, Best Friends, Dorks, Dorks who don't know they're in love, Drabble, F/M, Friendship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, LadyNoir - Freeform, My goal was just to tug at your heartstrings, No ragerts, One Shot, Oops, Rooftop chatting, Semi-autobiographical, Yes I spelled that wrong purposely, first fic, please bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAnimista/pseuds/MissAnimista
Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir often finish their late-night patrols with rooftop conversations about nothing and everything. Oftentimes they find out more about the other than they wanted, but these late nights allow the duo to grow closer and strengthen their friendship. Not a reveal fic, just a bit of fluffy sadness so please enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks, this is my first fic, like, ever, so please bear with me. I had this little dopey idea yesterday based upon some real life stuff and some obvious fabrications. Anywhoozers, please enjoy the one-shot! And if you like this fic, come say hi to me on tumblr @vrepitsalutatorian :)
> 
> ~MissAnimista

Sometimes, a special type of clear night allows for the clearest of thoughts. Something about the way the biting air stings your face or the way the moon appears to illuminate the darkest corridors of your mind just gets the creative juices flowing.

Without a cloud in the sky to block your ideas, every problem seems to have a solution, every project has the perfect finishing touch, but most importantly, any thoughts you've been suppressing emerge to the forefront. 

The human mind works in funny ways, and on those beautifully clear nights, we seem to stumble upon the answers to the most pressing issues of our lives. 

While gazing at the twinkling stars on this night, a struggling artist finally discovers the missing element of his proudest work.

During her short break, an aspiring novelist leans against a cold cement wall outside of the coffee bar where she works. As she inhales the crisp evening air, suddenly she envisions a masterpiece that she frantically begins to jot down on her cellphone before she's back on the clock. 

A young business student stares at the soft crescent moon, and in a moment of shocking clarity, realizes that there is nothing he wants more in life than to spend it all with his girlfriend, his best friend. On this crisp, cloudless night, he purchases a stunning diamond ring. 

Yes, these events all occurred on the same clear night, where no physical fog stood in the way of any of their minds' incredible capability to create, invent, and truly see clearly. 

Unfortunately not everyone experiences this sensation, and sometimes, even on the clearest of nights, an internal fog clouds the creativity, the revelations, and most importantly, the true emotions of so many. 

And while the artist added the twinkling stars to the background of his painting, the author began to pen what would become a bestselling novel, and the man prepared to propose to his lifelong best friend, Ladybug and Chat Noir just happened to be two of the unlucky folks who saw the same glistening stars, felt the same biting breeze, and stared up at the same clear sky, but didn't get to experience the mental clarity that came along with it.

\-------------------------------

Two shadowy figures danced across the clear Parisian skyline. Upon reaching the rooftop of a small furniture store, the duo halted and perched themselves over the edge of the rooftop, dangling their feet over the side. 

The unofficial stopping place of their routine patrol nights seemed the most ordinary of buildings, but it lay in the most picaresque location on the border of the sixteenth arrondissement of Paris. A glance to the left provided a nearly straight shot view of the Trocadero, while the shop lay almost directly across the Seine from Ladybug's favorite monument, the Eiffel Tower. 

While not chasing down and battling Hawkmoth's volatile akumas, the superheroes occasionally enjoyed racing across the rooftops with their partner, and, although neither would willingly admit it, best friend. It provided a well-deserved escape from the stress of both their civilian lives and superhero ones, a feeling of freedom and openness that often ended in long nighttime chats about pretty much anything on the roof of the small furniture store. 

"... I'm just saying," Chat Noir defensively stated as he raised his hands to his chest to guard from Ladybug's icy glare, "2016 already took so many celebrities. How do you know Betty White won't be next? She's like, what, 93?"

Poking his shoulder, Ladybug stated matter-of-factly, "Actually, she's 94, even so, Betty White can't die, she's like, immortal!" 

But Chat unrelentingly continued, "Or," nearly choking as he suggested, "please tell me I'm wrong, but what about Stan Lee? He's getting up there too." 

Ladybug nearly jumped backwards in mock terror, and with her hands pressed to her chest, ardently refusing to even admit the possibility, cried, "No! What about the Marvel cameos?! How would they ever finish Phase Three?!"

While Ladybug awaited a joking reply from her partner, like "Who knew my Lady was such a nerd?", Chat only placed his hands behind his head, leaned back onto the rooftop and bluntly mumbled, "Just because they're icons doesn't mean they're immortal." 

Ladybug turned her head to look at her partner and muttered, "I guess we all have to go sometime." With bitter disenchantment, she proceeded to join Chat by laying down and gazing at the twinkling stars of the December night sky, letting out a sigh.

"What's wrong, M'lady?" Chat worriedly asked Ladybug. "I don't know..." she replied, "It's just gotten me thinking..." 

Tilting his head in curiosity, Chat inquired, "About what, bugaboo?" 

The superheroine leant further back, crossing one leg over the other and with pensive expression, answered, 

"It's just, we mourn all these celebrities without even having known them, because through their works, they made such impacts on our lives. I know I was devastated when Alan Rickman died earlier this year, because Harry Potter was sorta my childhood, and it felt like when he died, the series lost some of its magic." She fumbled for a moment to find the right words, then continued,

"'Cause like, it just kinda made me realize that the world is real, and not just a children's book, and in the real world, bad stuff happens. People get sick. People die. I'd always been pretty sheltered, but for some reason this was a sort of wake-up call for me; it reminded me that every time we fight an akuma, even with the miraculouses, we aren't invincible. We can get hurt. We can die." Letting out an awkward cough to fill the silence, Ladybug finished with, "Anyways, maybe that's just me."

Chat had sat earnestly listening to his partner, appreciating the fact that she was willing to open up to him, but at this point, he interjected with a smirk, "Well Ladybug, you know I'll always be your knight," and taking an exaggerated stance, pretending to joust, he continued, "whose sole purpose is to protect my fair maiden!" 

She snorted halfheartedly, but he picked up on the fact that joking probably wasn't the best way to deal with the situation. Superficially, Ladybug laughed off Chat's joke as only that, a joke, to make her smile and forget the sadness, but deep down, she knew he actually wasn't kidding.

Chat understood she was upset, and while staring at the stars, he mindlessly divulged, "Ladybug, I get it. I kind of felt like this when my mother left." 

He knew he'd slipped and revealed too much, but he didn't care if it meant making his friend feel better, so he continued, 

"Sure my life definitely wasn't anywhere near perfect when she was still here, but afterwards, I realized that life dealt me a pretty nice hand, and I hadn't been totally grateful for that. I took her for granted; I thought she would always be there, and once she was gone, it was almost surreal how different everything was without her."

"But not too long after, I got my miraculous, and things started looking up! I met you! I've made friends this year that have helped me cope and I think what I've learned from this whole thing," he paused as he inhaled the crisp air deeply and turned his head to face his partner, "is that life can be pretty messy, and yeah, we can't all live in fantasy world, or else, who would pay the bills, or raise children, do even simple chores, like do the dishes? But no matter how rough things get, you can't stop appreciating the good things in your life either." 

He smiled at her, knowing he wasn't smiling his model smile or his cocky Chat smile, but something different. It was a small, corner smile, but it was genuine and for once in his life, vulnerable. 

Chat cleared his throat and continued, "Anyways, if we forget to look around and notice all the great things we do have, we begin to dwell on the negatives. Of course it's only natural to reflect every so often on the harshness of reality and the inevitability of death and all that existential crisis crap, but you can't let that stuff get you. Sometimes there's no avoiding it, and you have to paste on a smile and pretend for little bit. But the main thing is, you can't control life or death. They just happen. So my personal philosophy is that worrying means you suffer twice. So let's just enjoy tonight, sitting under the stars and talking, because we have no control over anything else."

Ladybug hadn't wanted to interrupt Chat as he told his story. She had no idea that his mother left him recently. But instead of feeling like she didn't know her partner, she was grateful for these late-night patrols, where they could just talk things through. 

Maybe they shared a little too much personal information that night, but she was okay with breaking her own rules if it meant comforting her friend. She had no idea her jocular partner had a deep side, but she was glad he shared it with her, just like she was glad she shared her struggles and concerns with him. 

His impromptu speech was just what she needed to lift her spirits, until he reached the end, at which she burst into a fit of giggles. Chat asked her what was so funny, to which she softly replied with a single tear welling up in her right eye, "That was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard... until you quoted Fantastic Beasts, you dork." 

With his signature smirk, Chat winked at Ladybug and replied, utterly satisfied in himself, "Yes, but I'm your dork." At that moment, after a long, cold night of patrol and carrying out conversation, the duo sighed simultaneously, embracing how lucky they both were to have such a great friend for a partner.

\------------------------------

Maybe it's because the clear night made his thoughts extra clear or because it made them extra clouded, but the next thing Chat did, well, he didn't really have an explanation for why he did it, besides it just felt right. 

He began to slowly reach his hand toward Ladybug's. 

Silently, while they both watched the stars, he slipped his hand underneath hers and laced their fingers together. 

She tilted her head towards him and lightly squeezed his clawed hand. Worried he had overstepped a boundary, Chat asked nervously, "Is this weird?" to which she chuckled dryly and replied, "If I was a very touchy-feely girl, then no. But it's us, so..." 

She paused for a moment to offer him a comforting, but undecided look before finishing, "Yeah, it's weird." Chat blushed, looking embarrassed over his small action, and began, visibly disheartened, to unthread his fingers from hers. 

Ladybug quickly turned her head towards him, at which he paused, as she delicately but deliberately responded, "That doesn't mean I want you to let go." 

Ladybug gently grabbed the hand he was slowly pulling away and interlocked her fingers with his, making it clear she didn't plan on letting go of her kitty anytime soon. 

They both momentarily gazed at each other and smiled before they returned to stargazing and talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Because sure, they were awkward and dorky, but if nothing else, they both deeply cared about each other, even if they were both too proud to verbally admit it. 

Maybe they weren't talking about it, but as they joked and laughed and told dumb stories on a rooftop on that incredibly clear Parisian night, their intertwined fingers said everything.


End file.
